


A Kind Selfishness

by HallaMothers



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29659017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallaMothers/pseuds/HallaMothers
Summary: A way she assumed friends looked at one another when they had no words to say; though the woman hadn’t looked at Alistair that way so perhaps she had misjudged their relationship. A smug feeling filtered in, knowing the she was more the Warden’s friend than Alistair was. Like a cruel older sister with the urge to gloat about how their parents loved her more.
Relationships: Morrigan/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	A Kind Selfishness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rejoyce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rejoyce/gifts).



> I wrote this for my friend Joyce, most of it was written at 3am on a night when I have class lol. Please enjoy!

Morrigan had watched the woman carefully over the many months since they had met in the Korcari wilds; she was such a curious creation. It seemed like wherever she strayed, the sunlight followed and at first the perceived Naivety angered the mage. How could someone deal with such cruelty and still find a way to smile so sincerely and genuinely. She had almost assumed the woman was as dense as Alistair was. Wouldn’t that be just her luck? Two of them. The thought was disgusting, but after months of companionship between the group Morrigan realized that not only did the Warden display kindness even at the loudest protest of the Witch, she also showed a level of intelligence she hadn’t seen in such a long time. Something she knew couldn’t be faked. Happiness? Easy enough to pretend existed—but it wasn’t possible to fake the level of understanding the woman displayed.

Further angered; how could she be so wise to the world and still smile. She had lost so much, and she laughed—so carefree. Something Flemeth had never afforded Morrigan. It was silly to think a creature so intelligent could be a creature so willingly blind to the world. It seemed almost unfair—and sometimes she thought maybe the Warden should be put down like a dog in its final days; a mercy for someone so kind.

Then the kindness, the understanding, the genuine smile was turned towards her dark corner of the world. At first, she had felt metaphorically blinded which again angered her more, but through the anger; she felt herself breaking down. Never had the Warden asked her intentions or why she stayed. Always the Warden listened to the words she said with complete and unbreakable attention; something Morrigan had never experienced. Sure she had made herself heard an endless amount of times, but not to the pleasure of others. This, however was different. Always, she was sought out for her wisdoms and opinions with no judgment. Whether or not the woman would take the wisdoms and advice, it mattered little, what matter was that she looked at all. It was strange, she wasn’t sure what to do with this new revelation that there were people in the world who considered her—who didn’t hide her deep in the wilds.

The laughter that followed broke her down even further. Her snide comments to others would usher in a soft—gentle chuckled from the woman much to the displeasure of especially Alistair. Less and less did her words have venom to them, and more and more she said anything that might pull forth that ridiculous stupid laughter. That train of thought turned her anger inwards. How could she be such a fool to let a dead woman walking break down her defenses? Flemeth would have never allowed it; and yet...Flemeth wasn’t here to scold her and take away the thing that brought her even the smallest amount of joy. Perhaps mother would try to break the warden if she knew, perhaps not. It didn’t matter. Flemeth wasn’t here, but she was. In all her kind glory. 

Then came the glances. No, Morrigan wasn’t naive enough to not notice that the Warden would glance her way from across the camp; while also giving her space. The warden had quickly learned Morrigan would shut off any conversation she wasn’t pleased with and so instead of trying to make small talk, she would just look across the camp with a look that whispered ‘I see you’ to her only. But it wasn’t in condescension, it was in affection. A way she assumed friends looked at one another when they had no words to say; though the woman hadn’t looked at Alistair that way so perhaps she had misjudged their relationship. A smug feeling filtered in, knowing that she was more the Warden’s friend than Alistair was. Like a cruel older sister with the urge to gloat about how their parents loved her more.

When that damned Antivan crow would lather on his pointless compliments to keep favor, Morrigan felt acid boil inside of her—it was all she had not to roast him like a farmer’s first chicken. Why she had kept him around was far beyond her; but for whatever reason Morrigan was long past questioning the motives of her only…friend. That’s all she was of course, was a friend who kept her around and did her a favor. Listened when she had learned the truth about Flemmeth’s intentions and never once told her it was silly. A friend who brought her a silly little golden mirror—just like in the story she had told her. Why the Warden bothered with remembering that when she had a blight to take care of was beyond her. She appreciated it, but she would never divulge how much she appreciated it. How much she had appreciated everything.

The anger returned when all of her thoughts turned to the damned Warden; how had such a creature gotten under her skin? Flemeth had always warned her about the softer people, ones who didn’t live like them—but never had she thought she would fall victim to one of them. Not physically; or rather, not only physically, but emotionally. Morrigan was melting; she was breaking down. All she wanted was to be near her friend but she was too stubborn to admit those thoughts to herself, or to anyone else for that matter. Still, there was no denying forever the effect that woman had on her.

It was a cold night in Ferelden that things finally came to a head for Morrigan. As usual, she was...observing the Warden when she watched her wander off to the small lakeside just outside of camp alone. ‘Foolish girl, that’s a death wish.’ Another reason to be angered, but Morrigan decided to leave it be—it wasn’t her business anyway; her friend was allowed to do as she pleased and who was she to chase after her? Besides she would be back at any moment surely. It wasn’t any business of hers.

But the Warden wasn’t back any moment, in fact she was sure a good half an hour had passed and no one else seemed as concerned as she was. ‘The fools, she’s the only one holding this together.’ Supposed it was she who had to go out and find her; the Witch always knew Alistair was oblivious and stupid. The Mabari the woman insisted on keeping ranked above him in intelligence. A sign in frustration, and she set off towards where the woman had disappeared.

Just before she crested into the eyeline of the Warden, she heard the most curious sound. Sniffling. Had she fallen ill? No, it couldn’t be that. Was she...crying? The thought made Morrigan’s skin crawl; not at the display of vulnerability which would be the usual case, but at the fact that she hadn’t a clue how to deal with emotions from herself or anyone else. It wasn’t too late to turn back and pretend she heard nothing, but her feet betrayed her. Instead she moved forward and made herself known, much to her own annoyance. All she was going to do was make whatever was happening worse.

“Oh, Morrigan.” Well at least she didn’t seem disappointed at the company that had appeared; that was a touch relieving. “Sorry.” Quickly she watched the woman wipe at her face as if trying to pretend she hadn’t been crying, she seemed embarrassed or more...humiliated to have been found. 

“No, don't apologize to me.” Morrigan’s tone had the same casual sardonic tone it always held, but her actions betrayed the fact that she wasn’t annoyed. The witch crouched next to the wandered and regarded her with...tenderness. Something all friends do, surely—even if she had to make an expression her face wasn’t used to. To think some woman had her, Morrigan, crouching in the mud due to concern—it was almost laughable, but concerned she was. 

She watched the warden fall into silence, not daring to make eye contact before lowering her head to her knees. “It’s embarrassing, I’m supposed to be stronger than this. I’m scared to die, Morrigan.” And she was scared for her to die. Not that she would ever express that to anyone, not even her closest friend—it would be unbearable for anyone to know she felt a kindness and a concern for someone other than herself. To be perceived as an individual with heart would be the most revolting. Yet, as she sat here and watched the woman be so open and vulnerable, she wanted nothing more than to comfort her.

“Now now, we mustn't talk like that.” It was the best she could come up with. “If you give into despair, surely you will die. A little counter intuitive.” No one ever said she was a comforting presence Flemeth had never taught her how. And yet, the Warden turned to look at her, with her large and bright eyes as if she had never been comforted so well in her life. That look again. It was unnerving, but she might turn to dust if the woman ever stopped looking at her in such a manner. It was strange, as she watched a range of emotions cross the kind face before her. She felt a tightness in her chest she hadn’t known before. Perhaps it was she who was dying.

“You’re right.” The woman said, and so she was. The words that came out of her mouth next, however, tore the last seams keeping Morrigan protected from the cruelty of the world. “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but Morrigan—I love being around you. I’m glad you sought me out.” The Warden Paused. “Thank you for being near me, it makes me feel...happy and calm.” To be told she had a calming effect on anyone, well it must have been a cruel joke but she didn’t want to turn from the joke. Perhaps she was the fool her mother accused her of being all along. 

“I...thank you.” It was the best she could offer, what could she say—She wasn’t ready to offer the woman words in return, despite the truth they held. The warden had been a calming presence in her life, and perhaps her strongest foundation, and even still she wanted to shy away from that affection. It was almost too much. Instead of words, she opted to awkwardly reach out and stroke her hair in what she hoped was calming and not at all embarrassing. Immediately her mind wanted to memorize the feeling of her hand in the woman’s hair and keep it as her own little secret.

“Morrigan, I love you.” So there it was, with those words muttered she knew what she felt wasn’t friendship...it was love. She could almost hear the chastising tone of Mother in her ear. How foolish had she been to let her guard down so far that she felt love for another person; a woman who might as well be dead for all the world knew. Truly she was the fool she had always been called. It almost hurt to hear those words, and yet—she wanted to hear them again. The witch had always been so deeply selfish, why would that have changed now? To conjure up a spell was easy, to conjure up the words to complete the moment was the most difficult trial she had ever faced.

“Twas I who was the fool.” She whispered to the Warden. “I thought it was just friendship; alas.” Morrigan hoped that it was enough for the warden to know she felt the same, that she wouldn’t have to lay all her cards out on the table just yet. To think she loved anyone besides herself seemed impossible, and yet there was no denying it any longer. For only a moment, the Witch closed her eyes. A reprieve from the brightness of the Warden’s face, before she turned her gaze back to her.

And for a third time tonight, she was caught by surprise when strong and tender hands pulled her into an embrace, one instinct told her to shy away from touch. Here and now though, how could she? Then she was pulled in for a tender and unsure kiss. Soft but slightly cracked lips brushing against her own. A disgusting display, but her heart was pounding as she did everything she could to return the affection. Morrigan's own lips slotted so perfectly against the Warden’s that for a moment she had considered this was a story book destined moment; but quickly she pushed that thought out of her mind. Whether or not it was destined, didn’t matter. Her fingers found purchase in the soft hair of her friend, her...lover. Desperation to keep her close guided her actions. To think perhaps she wasn’t as cold as people had assumed; well.

After a long moment of losing herself in the affections of the warden, lips brushing against lips. Hands cradling happy faces, they broke apart and simply stared at each other. Morrigan was going to make it a point to remember every facial expression, every mark on the woman’s face. Her mind was yet keen enough to be able to manage such a feat. Though, her eyes closed when she felt a thumb brush across her cheek bone. As if controlled by an outside force, she leaned into the touch and smiled. Not her normal sarcastic smile, but a genuine smile of happiness. She was selfish enough to think she deserved this affection and yet not so selfish to think the Warden didn’t deserve better. The witch wasn’t going to voice those opinions lest the Warden listen to her even more earnestly for once.

“My dear Warden, it seems I love you too.” It so unnatural to say and yet it felt so correct. Morrigan was in love and to deny it would make her an even bigger fool than she already thought she was in this moment. “Perhaps living without you is...no longer an option.” There wasn’t obligations behind the words, only honesty. Morrigan wanted the Warden to be hers and hers alone. 

Of course her warden was intelligent enough to pick up on her meanings, and responded not with words but with another gentle and affectionate kiss. This one has less of an edge of desperation and felt more sure; a turning point for them. The warden was giving into and even more, so was Morrigan. Never had she thought she would feel such a happiness and yet she couldn’t deny it. She held her warden closer, returning any affections that were given. 

Yes for once, Morrigan was truly and unabashedly happy. The warden was hers, and even more so...she was the Warden’s. A woman in love, a woman loved. Despite all of her flaws, she was loved and cherished. Flemeth had done her a favor after all it seemed. 

Long past the time they should have returned did they stay in embrace together, no words uttered. No words needing to be uttered; simply they were finding each other and for longer they would continue to find each other. There was nothing in the world more important than now. The blight could wait for this; because Morrigan had always been selfish—selfish enough to put a Blight on hold. She was happy to do it.


End file.
